


Respite

by ScarfyTheShipster



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, ロード・エルメロイⅡ世の事件簿 - 三田誠 | Lord El-Melloi II Case Files - Sanda Makoto
Genre: Classical Music, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post Zero pre Case Files, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarfyTheShipster/pseuds/ScarfyTheShipster
Summary: There’s a lack of words for heaviness in one’s chest.Perhaps a year ago, becoming a Clock Tower Professor would have been a victory, a sense of jubilation. It had been a dream, a fantasy, now marred with blood he himself hadn’t shed. Taking the El Melloi class was the only path he could see for himself for a use of his intellectual talents and to fulfill a duty to his fellow and future students.A duty, not a dream. A rocky path in which the other cogs in the Tower machinery might deem him a wrench.Waver didn’t have a place of his own yet, and what better way to infringe on Melvin more than staying with him? He asked reluctantly but Melvin gave readily, offering a spare bedroom but Waver insisted on taking the couch.
Relationships: Waver Velvet & Melvin Waynez, Waver Velvet/Melvin Waynez
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Respite

There’s a lack of words for heaviness in one’s chest. 

Perhaps a year ago, becoming a Clock Tower Professor would have been a victory, a sense of jubilation. It had been a dream, a fantasy, now marred with blood he himself hadn’t shed. Taking the El Melloi class was the only path he could see for himself for a use of his intellectual talents and to fulfill a duty to his fellow and future students. 

A duty, not a dream. A rocky path in which the other cogs in the Tower machinery might deem him a wrench.

Waver didn’t have a place of his own yet, and what better way to infringe on Melvin more than staying with him? He asked reluctantly but Melvin gave readily, offering a spare bedroom but Waver insisted on taking the couch. 

Melvin didn’t know what to make of this new, changed Waver. His bratty classmate and best friend was in there, but someone else too. At times he had a brighter focus and a weight to his words, as though there was something new and profound inside him greater than himself. Other times he seemed exhausted even before a day of teaching in his new position. Wearied, unsettled, and since when did Waver appreciate a glass of wine at night? 

Waver was the kind of man who made Melvin worry when he tried enjoying himself and indulging. He drank with a scowl and eyed cigarettes with a frown before suddenly spilling stories Melvin only half understood. 

An awful man to try and connect with, but challenges were entertaining.

Waver was on the couch again a few nights into his stay and Melvin watched him. It was early evening and it seemed Waver was torn between napping and being miserable, still in his dress shirt and tie. His cheek was against the couch cushion and he stared into space with glazed over eyes.

“You seem troubled, Waver.” Melvin stepped into his field of view and waved cheerily. “Any burden a best friend can help you bear?”

“No.” As a student it might have been snapped, but this Waver said it like a resigned sigh. “I don’t think so.”

Melvin left the room and Waver closed his eyes. What good would it do to vocalize his sticky position and even worse past? Scenes of gore and death played behind his eyelids. In the silence he heard echoes of a voice he longed for, and others he flinched away from. Sometimes, with the memory of a broad hand on his shoulders or tousling his hair tears would fall, but often he seemed beyond an exterior outlet. 

The couch dipped and Waver ignored it. It was Melvin’s couch, he could sit on it as he pleased. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” said Melvin. “In fact, don’t.”

“Hhhhhn.” Waver groaned, too tired to actually say anything, but the effort made Melvin chuckle. 

Melvin’s weight shifted and he seemed to be in a jolly mood. Waver didn’t mind. “Always contrary. Listen, and just breathe, alright? I have a gift, and I’ll use it for you.”

He didn’t have to wonder what Melvin meant for long.

Graceful, low violin notes reached Waver’s ears. Melvin must’ve been holding the instrument a couple mere feet from Waver’s head. It took talent to play something sweet and soft, sustained but quiet. Melvin’s magical abilities may aid his playing but the delicate passion in his ghostlike fingers that caressed the strings with his bow held the true power.

Breath by breath, Waver’s body relaxed. His shoulders slumped, freed from their tension. His restless limbs and racing heart calmed as peace washed over him, warm and nonverbal. It was like meditation but even better, refreshing him, giving him something to live for note by note.

Comfort.

Pure and simple companionship.

Time evaporated, meaningless in their sphere of existence. 

Waver listened in a pleasant daze, thankful for the relief. Without thinking, he curled up closer to Melvin and laid his head on Melvin’s thigh. If Melvin was startled he didn’t show it, playing on for several more minutes. Waver snoozed contentedly, not moving even when the music stopped.

Melvin looked down at Waver, setting aside the violin. He carefully put a hand on Waver’s head and stroked long hair off his face, admiring how it was growing out.

“Iskandar?” slurred Waver.

“No no, just your old chum Melvin,” he said gently. Melvin wondered if Waver would pull back. Waver did the opposite, scooting even further into Melvin’s lap and hugging him around his hips like he was clinging to driftwood while floating at sea. Melvin kept petting Waver’s hair, sleepy himself. “It isn’t fair to me, you know. It’s illegal to move with a cat on your lap.” 

Melvin fell asleep with his hand in Waver’s hair, resting on Waver’s shoulder. 

Waver didn’t discuss it the next morning, but Melvin swore he sipped his coffee with a small smile and the circles under his eyes were nonexistent. 

Melvin took the small victory.

**Author's Note:**

> Just some Melvin and Waver fluff, it felt nice to write. Thank you for reading and thank you to my beta fearboss!!


End file.
